“And?”
“And I told you, the rad was frozen.”
“No, I mean this O’Connell. He a nice guy?”
Randy shrugged and had to retrain the light back on the tire. “He’s a local. They have their own way.”
His father stood, rubbing palms to dislodge dirt, and retrieved the tire iron. “And this son of his?”
“Lyle.”
“Uh-huh. Lyle. He a nice guy?”
A rush of heat began to bloom up Randy’s neck. “Dad! He’s only eighteen.”
“Ah, so it is the old man.”
“The old man that what?”
His dad walked to the other side of the truck and gave Randy a quick smile before he bent down and started tightening bolts again. “That you like.”
“Bah!” The sound echoed louder than Randy had intended it to. He lowered his voice and frowned. “I most certainly do not. The guy can be an overbearing jerk.”
His father didn’t say
